Just another Sad Song.

0728/1854 75/85 Blue Skies E15/25 85%H
DOGS 9913 8290 1060 1750.

Greetings from the Hill.

An average day in paradise...
weatherwise.
Seems more like a perfect day
for sailing, golfing, diving,
even fishing
or reading a book,
perhaps jogging at Nude Beach
flopping the tits.

Morning sunlight on the balcony,
cats on chairs sleeping,
chickens on the railings
to sneak in the catbowls,
"Fuck off, you parasites,"
the madone hosing them to flight
dive bombing passing cars...
"Chickens do fly."

The oldman was distressed
with the mess,
no comics with courage,
no singers with heart,
no satirists with sear,
"Gutless dicks and shrill tits,
who hires these actors,
the casting department
'needs a makeover',
Wall Street on Madison Avenue,"
thinking of ryhmes
with the musical chimes,
a gusty beeze
in the keys.

The Big Urgency has disappeared
as the government agency
into banking appeared,
more coverup with TARP blankets,
but commercial arms
sticking out
in rigor mortis.

"Talk, talk, you braindead fools,
no Charlie Rose in your weedpatch,
liars, cowards and whores,"
rants the madone at CNBC
with the opening bell
for traders from Hell.

The ten o'clock sun accented
a dozen oregano on the balcony,
time for the winter seedlings,
"Yeah, something to eat,
not just gawk at,"
grumbles the nasty one.

Today seemed a good day to live,
maybe write a country song.

"Okay...pick up a chorus."

'Down to my last buck..
and I don't give a fuck.'

"Oh oh, despair and foul talk."

'All my payments are late
my current account past
don't know how much longer
my credit cards will last'

"Hey hey, country and middle class
with a little trailer park trash."

'My banker on Main Street
sold my mortgage to Wall Street
who peddled it in tranches
to worldwide branches'

"Oh, oh, a little esoteric like Bob Dylan."

'Now that sputtering Barney Frank
and the fulminating Dodd
conspire with every bank
in the financially engineered fraud'

"Pooh pooh, stretching for a ryhme,
and what about the chorus."

'Been working all my life
for the red white and blue
but I'm losing my home
and my union job too'

'Out on the street soon
sleeping under the moon'

"Well, that's a stretch...
maybe Charlie Daniels
or Arlo Guthie."

'Blame it all on George
but Bill signed the bill
that made Wall Street
King of the Hill'

'A conspiracy by the few
or mathmatics gone mad
politicians and bankers
all greedy men gone bad'

"Hey there Horatio, what's up,
is this some jazz poem now,
a liitle Miles Davis bitches brew."

'All Hope is small Change
from a smooth talking leader
down to my last buck
and don't give a fuck'

"My my heavens, what to say."

A beautiful breeze
in the florida keys.

Inside the reef.

Above the Horn.